Going paperless.
Anyone who suggests this has reached an advanced state of hopeless madness.
And yet when someone announces (often quite proudly, if not downright smugly) that they're actually doing this, it prompts a morbid curiosity.
Putting all your stuff in the invisible world, you know, everything, the sum total of every phone number you ever may need, the record of every dollar you've ever sweated for, the file of each and every single transaction that affects your life- usually in significant ways!- is just plain crazy.
In addition, when carried to the full extent of its words, basically this also means not only paying all your bills in the great, wild west of virtual reality- as convenient as first this may seem- but never, ever touching another sheet of real paper again, be it the page of a book or magazine, a cherished card or letter, a lined yellow note pad, a sticky note, a smooth, glossy photograph. . . you get the idea.
Honestly, it's beyond crazy. It's completely and irretrievably, ineluctably insane.
My fondest wish is to be so relaxed and other worldly that I actually can do this one day; then I regain my senses.
Going paperless. You know, like exploring the fourth dimension, or doing time travel. Or maybe communicating with ghosts at a seance.
I just have not reached that level of total insanity yet, tempting though at various times it does seem. . . .
A kind of Grand Illusion. A phantasmagorical chimera.
Going paperless.
A dream from which eventually I always awake.
Maybe next year.
